Tea for Four in a Lift
by RivailleKirkland
Summary: (Modern!AU) Arthur Kirkland and three of his colleagues get stuck in a lift in his work place. Little does Arthur know that fate brought all four of them together. All four people have dark, sinister, evil secrets buried within them. And Arthur's about to find them out. (I do not own Hetalia, Hidekaz Himaruya does)
1. Arthur, the King of Bad Luck

**Tea for Four in a Lift**

_{THE FIRST CHAPTER OF TFFIAL. PREPARE YOURSELVES. WHOOOOOOP._

_Song of the chapter: That's What You Get by Paramore}_

Arthur Kirkland woke up in the middle of the night to a few loud, strange sounds coming from next door. It took his mind a while to process what those sounds were, and his face flushed red as he took it all in.

"Oh, bloody hell! Not at three in the morning!" he yelled, throwing pillows at the wall in a desperate attempt to stop the moans.

However, they continued as if Arthur was a ghost.

Arthur covered his head in pillows as he tried his best to ignore the noises and go to sleep. It felt like hours, until finally…

'Hey….I'm actually feeling sleepy...' he thought.

Only for his thoughts to be interrupted by the beeping of his alarm.

"ARE YOU FU-"

_One million curses and a black magic spell later…_

Arthur stopped being a little bitch and decided to get up to freshen up and make some tea. Only to find out that he had finished all his Earl Grey and had to drink *whispers* coffee.

It's a good thing though; he could hardly keep his eyes open due to the people getting FUNKYYYY next door.

He put two slices of bread into the toaster and set the timer to two minutes before going to the fridge and pulling out the butter and jam. (_Do you put jam in the fridge? I do, but I'm not sure if you're supposed to.) _ Arthur walked back to the counter only for the toast to pop out.

"SHIT!" he cried, before pulling himself together and buttering the toast and spreading them with jam.

Arthur chewed slowly before checking the time and then shitting his pants; he had 10 minutes to be at the office, and his workplace was 20 minutes away.

He shoved the toast down his throat before struggling into his dress pants and his white shirt. Frantically buttoning it up, he shoved on some Union Jack cufflinks before pulling on his blazer. Arthur slipped on his shoes before grabbing his bag and heading out door.

The ride to work was simple enough.

OR SO HE THOUGHT.

Arthur was stuck in traffic; the office was still quite far, and he had five minutes until he had to be there.

He smashed his head on the wheel repeatedly, attracting the attention of some people on the pavement and in other cars.

"HOSER!" a Canadian man shouted at him, going by on a bike.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH MAPLE BITCH-FACE!" he yelled out the window, only to receive a sincere smile and a free bottle of maple syrup to the face.

"Have maple! Tu comprehend?"

"BASTARD!"

And Canadians were meant to be nice. Bloody…hosers.

Arthur finally managed to get to work.

BUT HE WAS TEN MINUTES LATE.

He drove into the car park and parked his car before entering the building. Arthur ran towards the lift (_I think they're called elevators in America…other places I'm not so sure) _and his slender frame slipped through the doors before they closed.

Arthur pressed 17, the floor he worked on and then leant against the wall in an attempt to catch his breath.

"Bad morning?" He opened an eye to reveal three other guys staring at him curiously.

"…'Bad' doesn't cut it. I'd go for 'fucking bat-shit crazy'," Arthur murmured.

One guy had classic blue sweetheart eyes, sandy blond hair with a stubborn cowlick and glasses perched on his nose. One had shoulder length, wavy blond hair, blue eyes and a rather…suggestive smirk. The last guy had jaw length blond hair, but in a slightly washed out shade of blond. He had violet, hopeful eyes.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones! Are you new? I haven't really seen you before around here, speaking of, you work on floor 17? Do you know this one guy who's all creepy, smiley and Russian? Yeah he's really freaking creepy and I don't want to get to know him and I'm scared that if I talk to you I'll catch his creepy commie germs and you know how I feel about commie germs, right guys?"

"Right," the other two chorused.

Arthur rolled his eyes before standing up straight.

"You need to stop. And I'm not new. I've been working here for four straight years. As for you guys, I've not seen you before. Not new though, I'm assuming, seeing as this one wouldn't stop running his mouth."

"I've been here for a year," the one with violet eyes whispered.

"Two!" Alfred added.

"Three years," the other one said in a distinctive French accent.

"And we all work on floor 18!" they said in unison.

"Right. So, am I getting names or wha-" Arthur stopped mid-sentence.

"Is it just me…or has this lift not moved for a few minutes?" he said with wide eyes.

"Dude…you're right! It hasn't moved for forever!"

"Noticed that."

"I did…"

Arthur sighed and clicked the emergency call button.

"Oh for God's sake." He murmured.

"What?" Alfred said.

"The emergency call button is busted."

"Great, that means we'll be here for a while. I'd like to be friends with you, eyebrows!"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY YOU ANNOYING SHI-"

"MY MOM WON'T LET ME USE THOSE WORDS!" the American cried.

Arthur sighed and joined all the others on the floor.

"Anyway, as I was saying…am I getting any names?"

"I'm Alfred F. Jo-"

"YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THAT."

"I'm Francis Bonnefoy, ohonhonhonhon~" the French one added, stroking Arthur's thigh. He moved away quickly, closer to the American.

"…I'm Matthew Williams, eh," the quiet one said.

Arthur sighed (this was becoming his habit) and leaned on the wall.

'What the hell have I done to deserve this…I'm stuck in a lift with two idiots and something that won't even talk.'

"Hey! What's your name, eyebrows?" Alfred stuck his tongue out and winked.

"Arthur Kirkland…and if you call me that again there'll be three people and a dead body in this lift."

"Artie…WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELF?!" Alfred weeped.

"…bloody hell."

_Ten minutes later_

Ten minutes had passed, and nobody had said anything. Alfred kept poking Arthur's cheek, Francis was stroking Arthur's thigh and Matthew hadn't said anything at all. Arthur leant back. Sure, he was being touched up by complete strangers (talking to people in a lift doesn't make them your best friends) but he was enjoying these minutes of pure, peaceful silence.

'I could get used to this…'

OR SO HE THOUGHT.

"Man! I am super freaking hungry! Artie, have you got any hamburgers? Huh?"

"No…I don't have any…gee…do you have any tea?" Arthur added sarcastically.

"Nah, but get this! Francis owned this super famous café in France!"

"How does this add to me getting my tea?"

"So, if I did my math correctly…" Alfred pulled out a marker and began to draw random numbers, letters, powers, roots and brackets to form something along the lines of an equation, "IT MEANS HE HAS THE FOOD!"

"Prove it."

"Hey waiter," Alfred beamed, "can we get tea for four in a lift?"

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed the first chapter._

_I actually doubt you will, though._

_This is the first chapter, so we're just warming up and getting to know the characters._

_I plan to set every chapter as an hour. And they'll be stuck in this lift for however many hours (chapters) I choose. _

_Every chapter we will get to know something new about the characters._

_Something evil, mysterious, dark, sinister, something buried deep within the characters' pasts._

_You'll learn about Arthur too (duh)._

_Did you expect to read the entire story trusting him?_

_You don't even know what Arthur has done._

_I include jokes to lighten the mood._

_I hope to make this story as big as Gutters (in the Hetalia fandom) one day._

_I hope you stay with me during this story._

_I'll include a 'song of the chapter', the song I thought of or was listening to during the making of the chapters._

_Enjoy._

_And bye._

_See you soon!_

_-Brinley (RivailleKirkland)_


	2. Alfred, the King of Lost Hope

_{This is chapter/hour 2. I hope you like it. This is where we find out the first secret! One of Alfred's. I have a feeling you might not like this chapter._

_I actually had to do research for this! For the part about the American states and the distance so that the locations wouldn't be too far-fetched and annoying for the American readers._

_It contains sexual themes somewhere in the middle._

_Song of the chapter: But It's Better If You Do by Panic! At The Disco}_

**They have been trapped in the lift for 1 hour.**

"You guys!" Alfred shouted, earning the others' attention.

"What is it, fat-ass?" Arthur murmured, giving an emerald glare to the American.

"We should totally get to know each other. I should totally go first, right? After all, I _am _ the hero that's gonna get us out of this mess!"

"TMI, just get on with it, would ya?" Arthur replied.

"Okay, well my name is Alfred F. Jo-"

"WILL YOU STOP REPEATING THAT?!" everybody chorused.

"Jeez! You guys are mean. Anyway, I was born on the 4th July, dude! That's, like, the most AMERICAN DAY OF THE YEAR! My hometown is Denver, and when I was about t be born my Mom was like to my Dad IT'S GOING TO BE A GIRL and my Dad was like LADY FUCK NO IT'S A BOY and when I came out my Dad was like BOOM IN YA FACE and my Mom got mad, so after I was released from the hospital with her she left my Dad.

"My Dad thought it was my entire fault, so he kinda hated my guts when I grew up. I got really pissed off with him, so when I was 18 my girlfriend and I ran away together…she called it 'eloping' or some shitty name like that…whatever. Anyway, none of my relationships last very long, so on the fourth day of our little running away spree, when we made it all the way to Illinois, I ditched her at the motel and made my way to Wisconsin. I worked there for about a month, helping some old man pack raisins into little boxes. When I earned enough I heard some rumours about a young guy who was planning to drive down to Georgia for a while, so using the old guy's help I found that guy. He offered to take me to Georgia with him, so of course I said yeah! When we made it to Georgia like ten years later, I began searching for jobs, and I eventually found one working in a factory to make shitty table legs or something like that. I got a job there, and it was freaking awesome.

"I made a lot of friends there, some guys called Donnie, Hershel and Rick. I felt right at home. Of course, I didn't know where 'home' was. But I loved them. As friends, duh. No homo. When I had been working in Georgia for six months, I'd finally had enough. Donnie, Hershel, Rick and I planned to go to North Carolina. We made it there, and we had a flat that we shared. But they only agreed to come with me because they were stuck in a bad situation, with bad people that they owed money to. It was because of drugs, Rick had told me. They were nuts for the stuff. Rick was the only one that didn't really like the stuff, so we left one night and came to New York City. It took us a million years, but we finally made it. And that's where my story ends."

"Well…bugger, your life is a right rollercoaster. Say, what happened to Rick?" Arthur queried.

"Rick and I kinda lost touch…last time I talked to him he was working in some strip club called the Lusty Leopard or something…" Alfred answered.

"I really like your story, Alfred. The only thing missing is the sex. Ohonhonhonhon~" Francis said.

"I really liked it too," Matthew whispered.

"You really did?! Aw, bro, that's great! It was fun to live it, too."

"Well, I'm tired," Arthur said, "suppose I said that we should get some sleep, what would you think?"

"Well, I'm all in broseph! SLEEEEEP!" Alfred shouted.

"I want to sleep too," Matthew whispered (but no-one really cared about him…or heard him)

"Ohonhonhonhon~ sleepy time! No raping," Francis whispered into Arthur's ear, only to be shooed away.

"Good night, guys. Or morning. What is the time, even?" Arthur asked.

"I dunno."

"Me neither."

"It's 11…" (But no-one heard him)

About fifteen minutes later, Alfred could hear all his companions breathing slowly; they were all asleep.

He sighed.

_They don't know the true story. _

_That's the bad thing._

Alfred was pulled into a flashback.

_Strobe lighting blaring into the scene. Speakers pumping fast dance tracks into the bar. People laughing, stumbling, chatting. People struggling to withhold their drunken antics. A woman comes out from the curtains and struts her way to the metal pole in the middle of the room, extending from the ceiling to the floor. She places it between her thighs and swings on it, earning wolf whistles from around the room. The woman is wearing revealing clothing; a leopard print pair of panties with matching stockings and garter belts and a clingy, glittery, gold top that showed her pale midriff, highlighted by the green ceiling lights. Men cheer all around the scene, a chant is going around the crowded lounge. "Take it off! Take it off!" The woman immediately responds, pulling off her gold top, revealing her large breasts hanging out. As she twirls around the pole, swinging on it and using it to toy with her body, she manoeuvres her way to a young man, who tosses her a wad of cash. She begins to give him a lap dance. Men all around become jealous. To please them, the woman pulls off her stockings and panties, revealing her lady parts to all. A cheer goes around the crowd. The woman sits in front of the man and spreads her legs. She reaches her hand down and touches herself. She slips a finger in, and gasps. And another. And another. The room is filled with pants, moans, groans and cheering as she touches and plays with herself, masturbating for the crowd's entertainment. She finally climaxes, and squirts all over her hand, rubbing the juices onto the man's chin. The man snaps the woman up, pulling her into a separate room. _

_It gets heated._

_Nine months later, the woman gives birth. The woman leaves the man as soon as she comes out of hospital. The man dislikes the child, yet stays until he is 18, and then abandons him. The young boy decides to run away with his girlfriend. She ditches him in Illinois for a young, handsome casino manager. _

_The boy makes his own way._

_When the boy goes from Illinois to Wisconsin to Georgia, he finds friends. He gets into drugs. The boy gets in with the wrong crowd. The boy kills a lot of people to get out of his debt. The boy is in trouble. Scared, the boy and his friends drive up to North Carolina. The boy is on the run from the police._

_The boy makes his way to New York City with one of his friends._

Alfred gasped, remembering what really happened.

_No._

_I don't want to remember. _

_No._

_No._

_No._

_NONONONONONONONONO THE PAST IS ALL LIES._

Alfred's thoughts overtook his mental cries of freedom.

These three people are stuck in a lift with a murderer and a drug addict rolled up in one. They're stuck with someone who is on the run from the police.  
Someone who has created their own identity. Alfred F. Jones.

Before sleep claimed him as it's victim, one thing crossed Alfred's mind. One small statement.

_The demons of my past will always haunt me._

_{I really hope you liked this chapter. As you can see, I got a bit lazy after the dirty stripper part (I tried to be descriptive, I hope I won't regret it) so I'll edit it to make it a bit better if I have time during the week._

_So that's the first one of Alfred's secrets. There's many to come._

_If you can guess who's secret I'm doing next, then I'll write you a small (or long) Country x Reader just for you, on any country you want. _

_If you can find the How I Met Your Mother reference I put in, then I will write you a one shot on any anime character you like! _

_The P!ATD song I added as the song of the chapter is relevant to the strip club scene. If you were to read that before that scene it would be awkward. So I recommend you listen to it during that strip club scene._

_Also, one more thing._

_I don't have a schedule set for when I will update, but I will certainly not abandon this story. And I will not go on hiatus!_

_Reviews and __**constructive criticism **__is welcome._

_Flat-out rude comments like 'your story sucks' will not only be blocked and removed, but I will reply with a very rude and insulting comment._

_BECAUSE THAT'S WHO I AM._

_Please stay with me on this story._

_Good bye._

_See you soon!_

_-Brinley (RivailleKirkland)_


	3. Matthew, the King of Perfection

_{Hello, hello. Yes, indeed, it is me, Brinley. What have you been getting onto? I've been re-watching Darker Than Black (Hei is just so cute) and reading Ereri fanfiction this week._

_Nobody actually got the person who I was doing next correct. _

_PhylanceSimons was the closest. They guessed Canada, but then changed it to France, but I'll let that slide. When you read this, let me know and I'll get on to writing it. Also, thanks so much for the constructive criticism. I am going to update the previous chapter sometime this week (probably Wednesday)._

_Enough chatter! This is hour/chapter 3. _

_Song of the Chapter: Full Circle by Half Moon Run}_

**They have been trapped in the lift for 2 hours.**

Matthew shuddered; wrapping his arms around himself in his confining blazer {_does this make sense}_, he began to fiddle with his thumbs.

He was huddled in the lift corner, conserving his body heat as a draft came through and cold air danced across his pale fingers.

'_When are we getting out?'_

'_What did I do to deserve this?'_

'_I've been a good person all my life-'_

Wait. Scratch that.

'_I'm not a good person. Never been one. I'm horrible.'_

Matthew looked around the lift, at the three other men sleeping in the other three corners.

'_It's funny. None of these people know it.'_

Matthew was eventually so lost in his thoughts that he didn't see Francis wake up.

"Quoi? Matthieu, qu'est-ce que tu fais?" he queried.

"Nothing." Matthew replied solemnly. He had a French tongue, seeing as he was a Canadian and they speak French as well as English over there {_I had to do a lot of research about Canada for that, and if it was all incorrect information I'm going to flip a table because I worked so freaking hard for that. Canadians, please assure me whether this is right or wrong}._

"You look so…tranquil, in that very spot. So very innocent," Francis said, dreamily staring at Matthew.

Speaking of Matthew, he had to stop himself from scoffing.

'_Innocent? Don't make me laugh. I'm anything but innocent.'_

The others slowly began to wake in the next ten minutes.

"Alright," Alfred yawned, "who's going to share their life story next? Arthur?"

"I'd rather be castrated by Satan whilst wearing a cosplay of Naruto, thanks," Arthur grumbled to himself.

"Artie is mean."

"Am not! Sod off, you ignorant twat!"

"Ball licker!"

"Wanker-hole!"

"Un-heroic tea lover!"

"Un-heroic fat-ass!"

"YOUR MAMA WEARS TOO MUCH MAKEUP!" they shouted in unison.

"Guys, guys! When you guys finish releasing sexual tensions can we let someone else talk?!" Francis butted in.

Alfred began, "True. Before I was so rudely insulted by Artie-"

"YOU INSULTED ME FIRST."

"Just shut it! Anyway, I was going to suggest that Mattie spills the beans!"

"…Me?" Matthew took a double-take at Alfred.

"Why not? You're super quiet, so nobody really pays attention to you and you never talk so it's like you're invisible really-"

"Ok, ok, when you stop running your mouth I'll begin," Matthew said as nicely as possible.

"I, uh…I was born in Ottawa, Canada. I was always the good child in my family. My older brother was a punk, emo, goth, you name it. My younger brother was a spoilt brat, who would refuse to listen or do anything for my parents unless he got the latest toy or gadget on the market. I only ever did what my parents told me, until one day, when I was approaching my 21st birthday, I did something stupid."

"What did you do?" Alfred asked eagerly.

"I…I drank some alcohol."

"_You're such a good kid, Matthew."_

"_Your grades are outstanding Matthew."_

"_You're a role model to other students, Matthew."_

_All I could ever say back was "Thank you, thank you, thank you."_

_I could never do anything to change that._

_It's not like I hated being a good kid._

_I hated being praised._

_I hated being the centre of attention._

_I just hate it._

_So, a few weeks before my 21__st__ birthday, I decided to visit a place rumoured to be real. _

_A black market in the secret underground tunnels underneath Ottawa. _

_So I visited them. I've never felt like I've belonged somewhere, until I found that black market. It was real._

_They had it all; illegal drugs, weaponry, armour, organs, you name it. My favourite part was the pickpocket ring. I don't know how, but I made friends with the criminals there. But that never changed me. I was a natural at pick pocketing._

_But that never changed me._

_I soon got every criminal in that black market to know my name. _

_I don't know how, but I became the head thug. _

_I was a horrible person inside._

_But that never changed me._

_I pick pocketed hundreds of people on trains, buses, in shops, on the street._

_Oh, but that never changed me._

_I was such a pristine, perfect guy on the outside._

"So, then what happened?" Arthur asked. He also seemed to be quite intrigued.

"I got a little drunk. My mother found out, and she wasn't happy."

"_Stay put! This is the police!" voices could be hard echoing further up the tunnels. _

"_Shit! Matthew, it's the cops!" someone said._

"_Let's get to the rear exit. Don't let anyone notice."_

_Can you believe it? Little Matthew, taking charge of a black market?_

_Two of my subordinates crept out with me, whilst our friends were being taken in by the police._

_I felt like a horrible person._

_But that's who I am now._

_When I made it home after my subordinates managed to sneak back to their places, I was still that 'perfect person' my parents thought I was._

_I decided to use it as an opportunity, by telling my mother something that wasn't true._

"_Mother, I'm going to work in London."_

"_I can't believe it! Wait until I call your father, he'll be so proud."_

_Of course he was proud. Everything the 'perfect person' did he was impressed by._

_When the time that I finally gained the courage to leave Canada finally came around, I bought a ticket to London using the tonnes of money I made at the black market. _

_I made it out of Canada, though I was sweating with the fear of being found out._

_When I made it to England, I didn't have a place to stay. _

_So I did what I could._

_I flirted with women until we would go back to their place._

_Every night, it was a different woman._

_Cassidy, Brittany, Eliza, Cathy, Dianne, I can't remember half of them._

_This went for a few months, until I used the degree I earned at university in Canada to get a job at a firm and my own apartment._

_I had finally gained the courage to buy my own place with the black market money instead of crashing at the houses of women whom I'd slept with._

_But that never changed me._

_Yes, I'm a terrible person._

_I'm horrible._

_But to my parents, my family members, everyone I knew in Canada except for my colleagues at the black market…_

_I'm a 'perfect person'._

_Such a 'perfect person'._

_So very perfect._

_I have no flaws, no sins, no impurities._

_Oh, and do you know why?_

_Because I'm perfect._

"What happened when she found out?" Francis enquired.

"She was really mad, but since I'm usually such a _perfect person _she let it slide."

"My mother would've given me no tea for a month, the horror!" Arthur said.

"So, I decided to go work abroad so I wouldn't be confined in Canada. And I wanted to meet more people, get a lot of business contacts so that I could create my own business someday, and maybe go into partnership with some larger firms."

"And?!" Alfred said earnestly.

"And that's where my story ends." Matthew finished.

"Merde, that was amazing! Lovely, Matthieu!" Francis whooped.

"Dude, rock out!"

"Good show, good show."

But Matthew stopped listening.

_All he could think about was_ _how much of a perfect person he his._

_{ I finally finished! This took an hour and ten minutes! I tried to not be lazy and made Matthew's first secret a lot less boring and rushed as Alfred's (which I will edit later this week)._

_The song of the chapter might not work for you, but it works for me._

_If you can spot the Ouran High School Host Club reference, then comment it and WELL DONE._

_I hope you like this one._

_This is probably my favourite chapter so far._

_And yeah, I took the thug idea from Attack On Titan, since Levi was a thug and he looks so tiny and cute like Canada I thought it would work._

_Okay, reviews and _**constructive criticism **_are always appreciated._

_Flat-out rude comments will either be blocked, reported or replied to with a __**very mean message**__._

_I mean it._

_Ok._

_See you soon!_

_Goodbye!_

_-Brinley (RivailleKirkland)_


	4. Francis, the King of Fremont Street

_{Did you miss me? Yeah, I'm sorry for not posting, however, technical difficulties caused my laptop to be a little bitch, and I wasn't able to post for like two whole freaking weeks until I found some troubleshooting site and then I was able to post. _

_Anyway! _

_We learn about Francis' first secret this chapter. So there's no point playing guessing games, you probably already know Arthur's secret is next seeing as there's no-one else to go. The French translations are at the bottom. And if you're wondering when they'll leave the lift, THEY WON'T LEAVE UNLESS I LET THEM, MWAHAHAHA!_

_Oh the powers of being the writer of the story._

_Anyway, sorry if this chapter is shit. I was starting to write this, and then my laptop gave me a low battery notification, so I went to get my charger and I TOTALLY TRIPPED AND FACE-PLANTED INTO THE FLOOR. _

_My nose won't stop bleeding, damn it._

_Song of the Chapter: Build God, Then We'll Talk by Panic! At The Disco & Uragiri No Yuuyake by Theatre Brook}_

**They have been trapped in the lift for 3 hours.**

"Well, you know what they say. When you're trapped in a lift for this long, you turn gay." Alfred sighs.

"Who the bloody hell ever said that?!" Arthur exclaimed, obviously pissed off annoyed with what Alfred said. He pulled Alfred towards him by the collar of his shirt.

"Dude, I just wanted to make it rhyme!" Alfred said, eagerly trying to get away from Arthur, slapping his hands off of him.

"Oh, really now, Arthur!" Francis butted in, putting his hand of Arthur's shoulder, "I thought you would be the mature one here. Now here you go, attacking this poor man."

"Yeah, well out of the three of us in this lift, he's the one that's going to be killed for food first," Arthur said through gritted teeth.

"There are four of us in this lift," Matthew murmured.

Everybody turned to look at him.

"Bugger! Matthew, I totally forgot that you were in here!" Arthur said.

"Yeah, bro! Did you leave, or somethin'?"

"Oh, mon dieu, you scared le French crap out of me!"

"Oh really, you guys," Matthew sulked in the corner.

"Anyway, I thought we were learning about each other, here! Artie-The-One-Man-Party, why don't you go?" Alfred said excitedly.

"I'd rather wait until everyone else has had their turn," he replied, glancing at Francis.

"Well, I guess I could go," Francis said slowly, his finger on his chin, "but, I get to sit next to Arthur!"

"Oh, bugger, go on then," Artie-The-One-Man-Party Arthur said, shifting over a little so the frog could sit next to him.

"Would you like to begin?" Matthew said, lightly clutching his sleeve.

Francis began, "Okay, well I was born in France to a middle-class family. My father and mother ran a popular little bakery in Calais. We were happy, I guess."

_It all began at a motel on the corner of 4__th__ and Fremont Street. _

_My father, who was French, really did love the States. He was an attorney. Every year, he'd have many business trips there, and he'd always bring back beautiful gifts of jewellery, purses and clothing for my mother and he'd get metal car models and books for me_.[1]

_I didn't know how he had gotten hold of those fancy things._

_I was only a young boy, aged 8, who was too stupid to understand anything about the real world._

_The truth about reality finally dawned on me at the age of 15. _

_There were no good people in this world._

_My mother found out that my father was cheating on her. He didn't have any business trips to the States. He'd go there, sleep with women at the disgusting motel and bring back their belongings for my mother and me._

_Of course, she wasn't happy at all. _

"_Tu as couché avec d'autres femmes! Dieu, vous connard. Ma mère avait raison de vous! Vous êtes un bon à rien, menteur sale!" _[2]

_She'd yell the same things all the time._

_My mother wouldn't face the truth and eventually moved out of our house._

"Until my father and mother began arguing. Even about small little things, such as 'not passing the water pitcher' or 'not having any bread at dinner'. My mother just couldn't stand having him around, and so she moved out of our house and into her mother's."

"Dude, that has to suck."

"I'm sorry your parents split up."

"How terrible!"

"Anyway," Francis continued, "my father felt awful. He'd drink himself silly every night, and would tell me the same story during the few moments that he was sober. My father would tell the story of how he met my mother. Eventually, his liver couldn't take it anymore."

"_Papa? Où êtes-vous? J'ai fait le petit déjeuner." I called out the same sentence until I found his passed out in the garden. I pulled him inside. But he felt cold._

_I figured that since he spent the night outside, he would obviously be cold._

_But he was dead._

_My father wasn't alive anymore._

_I buried him in our garden. I was only 15, so I tried to pretend that it didn't happen and continued to support myself. I used my father's money to buy groceries, I'd work out bills and pay them and continued going to school._

_However, this only worked for a while._

_I was eventually found out and forced into foster care._

_As I was packing my things away I found something in one of the books my father had brought me from the States. _

_It was a letter._

_It read _[3]_:_

Francis.

I am so sorry for everything. I didn't realise what I had become. The truth is, all anyone wants in this world are three things:

Power, fame and prosperity.

I wanted all of these things, of course. I went out of my way trying to get these things.

Would you like to hear something my father once told me?

He told me that there are two kinds of people in this world.

Those who are evil and those who are even more evil.

I guess I'm one of those who are even more evil.

I'm passing this information to you.

And I'm telling you now, son: Don't ruin your life.

-Your father, Vincent Bonnefoy [4]

_That day, something clicked in me._

_So I studied to become an attorney._

_Just like my father._

_And I went to the States._

_Just like my father._

_And I went to the motel on the corner of 4__th__ and Fremont Street._

_Just like my father._

_And slept with hundreds of women._

_Exactly like my father._

"So, let me get this straight. You studied to become an attorney after your father died, and then you moved here?" Alfred asked.

Francis nodded, "yeah, but I switched to working in an office."

"Well, that was a great story, Francis," Arthur smiled.

"I enjoyed it," Matthew said.

_Well, the thing is, this story doesn't have an ending._

_Because it continues, you see._

_My name is Francis Bonnefoy and I am a cheat._

_Just like my father._

_{[1] I used 'and' way too much in this sentence._

_[2] "You slept with other women! God, you asshole. My mother was right, you! You're a bum, dirty liar! "_

_[3] The letter was in French, of course. I didn't write it in French due to the fact that I would probably have extra translating to do (and a girl don't want shieeet XD)_

_[4] Yes, I did take the name 'Vincent' from Black Butler. But can you blame me?! I know Ciel's dad is (kind of a spoiler, not really) dead, BUT HE WAS HOT AS FUCK._

_I'm sorry. I really tried, but I just rushed it because my nose won't stop bleeding so my parents are taking me to the hospital._

_What the ACTUAL FUCK did I do to my nose?!_

_Anyway, the first song of the chapter is Build God, Then We'll Talk by Panic! At The Disco. _

_If you haven't guessed already, I love them! It's my favourite song by them._

_And Uragiri No Yuuyake is the Durarara! Theme, and I love this anime and would recommend it to people who like bad-ass mother fuckers who are hot too._

_I understand that I owe some of you guys some small one shot fics, and I will post them when I get back from the hospital._

_I need to go to the hospital now._

_Bye guys!_

_GET READY FOR ARTHUR'S SECRET NEXT (GOING TO BE EPIC!)!_

_-Brinley (RivailleKirkland)}_


	5. Bear with me

Well.

It's almost been a month since my laptop broke down, and deleted all my data with it. I'm so frustrated. I'm in college, going into university this year, and to have all my story plots, TFFIAL chapters + drafts, COLLEGE ASSIGNMENTS/COURSEWORK and a few reader insert requests for people to be DELETED is extremely upsetting.

I've told my parents about my laptop deleting all my college files, and they've agreed to get me a new laptop as soon as possible, and I honestly appreciate it but it just won't repair the fact that I've literally lost everything.

I'm literally not overreacting.

I kept everything on my laptop; family photos and photos from various places I've been to. I even had photos of friends from way back to when I was around 5, friends I'll never see again.

I'm not asking for sympathy, all I'm asking is for you guys to bear with me.

I'm trying to rewrite everything, I'm going to fix this, don't fret c:

Until then, I'm using my mum's laptop, I guess.

Thank you for your support so far, and I promise I'll get the chapters up as soon as I can.

-Brinley (RivailleKirkland)


End file.
